Hot Summer Job/Wait for Carrie to come back
You doubt apologizing will do anything. Besides, you're not sure if you can trust Larissa's smirk. You stay put in your seat next to Tinkerbell chatting about nothing in particular. She's going on and on about Pokemon, a birthday party she attended, then how they went swimming last week. Given the opportunity, Larissa is ready and willing to talk your ear off.
The two of you soon move to the living room, sinking yourselves into the sizable couch. Larissa pretzels her legs and twists her body toward you. Hunching forward, she fiddles with the triangles on the bottom of her nightie in a nearly nervous fashion. After a few minutes it dawns on you; maybe she likes you? She's very chatty and smiley yet slightly shy, frequently looking down at her nightie instead of up into your eyes. It could all be in your head too, but the body language is there.
However, it's hard for you to pay close attention to her body language when you're paying so much attention to her body. Tinkerbell's straight and widely cut neckline droops downward, hanging away from her torso whenever she dips forward or scrunches her shoulders. The fairy's flat chest, fair skin and bright pink nipples flash into view over and over through the constantly dipping and swaying opening.
But that's not all. Little Tinkerbell is pulling up on the bottom edge of her nightwear as she picks at the zigzag of triangles it's composed of. And with her thin thighs spread apart and aimed in your direction, the full crotch of her light purple panties are pointing right at you.
"Larissa!"
Your heart nearly seizes as your head whips to the side. Mrs. Callahan's voice frightens you, afraid that you've been caught. At one entrance to the room stands Carrie, her hands cocked on her hips.
"Come give me a hug before I go!"
Larissa scrambles off of the couch and shuffles her way across the room to be embarrassed by her mother. Carrie has changed out of her negligee but is still very lightly dressed, appropriately so given the heat of the morning sun. A white sleeveless button up blouse adorns her shoulders. But it's only on her shoulders since she has left the front completely unbuttoned. Beneath the thin shirt is a white lace tube top, a fashion statement from another era. As your gaze travels down her surprisingly taut stomach you find a rather small pair of bleached jean shorts before her legs take your eyes on a particularly long journey downward, all the way down to the tips of her toes pointing out of her flip flops.
Little Larissa may have been giving you a bit of chub from flashing you, but Carrie is bringing on full on wood. She didn't look anything like this yesterday, did she?
"You're going to be a good little girl for Riley, aren't you?"
"Mooom..." Larissa groans in protest, shrugging out of the hug with her mom.
"Just making sure! Poor Riley, having to deal with my girls all day! And promise me you'll take off that nightie at some point!"
"Mom! Go already!"
With an air of indignance, Carrie turns to you. "Riley, you'll be sure to get her out of that thing, won't you?"
You raise an eyebrow at her phrasing. "Sure thing Carrie!"
She smiles her appreciation to you. "I'll be gone longer than yesterday but I don't know exactly how long I'll be. But the sooner I leave, the sooner I'll get back, right?"
"I'll be counting the minutes until you arrive!"
You pause after replying. That came out oddly. Given the curious look on her face she's not sure how to take it either. But after another moment and a few more quick goodbyes she's out the door.
You and Larissa spend the next hour or so in the living room watching TV and chatting. She claims she doesn't have any school work. You're not sure if you believe her, but you're not going to argue either. She keeps bringing up all sorts of things that she and her sister have done. With how she's emphasizing certain things it seems like she's trying to impress you. Doing your best to sound sincere, you placate her desires again and again. She asks you about some of the stuff you've done and you reciprocate in kind, embellishing certain things and playing down others, trying to match her stories as best as you can. She's laughing extra hard at your jokes and at times bouncing around on the couch in excitement. Eventually she turns to you looking very serious.
"We could go up to my room if you want. Or we can stay down here and mess around. Up to you."